[Alright Kiddos~ A disclaimer…and an explanation? I don't own the horror characters…I did take the idea kind of from Horror Housemates ((Look it up on Youtube or deviant art…)). I don't really know what Ghostface looks like under his mask so I'm going by a few pictures/writings I've read about him, considering he's actually several people…I'm going for a certain kind of flow-story here…so my ghostie~ will remain unnamed considering his looks…The one HHM bases it off of is Roman Bridger. I don't really know who that is, having only seen the first movie….and if he IS in there…I'm so sorry…I've only ever seen it once…several years AGO…Um…Myers? That's just gonna be my imagination…for now~ Um…enjoy? I know it's written like a three-year old learning to type…but /sigh/ My muse insisted so enjoy?]
I felt numb from the cold. I was tired and confused. I slowly pulled myself up from the ground, grimacing as pain flared in the back of my head. I could taste blood in my mouth. Probing the back of my head with gentle, yet shaking hands I discovered a thick bump. That might explain why I'd woken up on the side of the road in a ditch. I had on black gloves, jeans and a t-shirt as well as some sort of mechanics jacket…M. Myers? I noticed something glowing a bit off and stumbled over to it. A cell phone? Missed call from Mikey. Who was that? I slipped the cell into my pocket and picked up the backpack on the ground. Maybe it was mine? The only tag on it read 'Ghostface-No touchy unless Mikey'. Who was Ghostface? I put one strap on my arm and continued onwards into the dark. A car passed me once before it stopped and reversed.
"hey kid…You need a lift?" the guy in the car asked. He looked pretty old and inviting.
"uh…yeah,' I said and climbed into the car, feeling nervous for an unknown reason.
"Where you headed son?" the man asked me, giving me a look. Obviously trying to sum up if I were a threat. I didn't think I was a threat. Hell, I don't know who I was. "You running from someone?" The old man asked and his gentle fingers touched my face, it stung a little. Oh. Must have a bruised eye and a split-lip. What the hell had I been doing? "it's okay if you don't want to talk about it…Me and Sheryl…We ain't got kids no more but we gots a spare room if ya want to stay there for the night and get your bearings…How's that sound?" I nodded my head and stared out the window as we continued onwards.
-later-
My reflection stared back almost hauntingly at me. I looked like I'd gotten into a fight. My shaggy blonde hair hung into my eyes, giving me a much younger look. In case you're wondering, I am a guy…not manly looking though, more girly for some reason. Slender built to the extreme. I pulled my shirt up slowly to reveal several bruises underneath. Someone hadn't like me but who? I locked the bedroom door and dumped my backpack out onto the bed. The cell in my pocket chimed scaring me and I realized I'd just received a new text message.
'Where the fuck are you kid?' the cell told me. It was from someone named Freddy. Who was that? I sighed and tossed the cell onto the bed with the rest of the stuff. What did I have? An assortment of things. Some spare clothes…and a Halloween costume. One of those 'Ghostface' ones. Weird. And…a knife. One of those kitchen ones. Why would I have that? I had some money in one of the pockets but that was it. No I.D. cards or anything. What idiot travels around without identification?…someone who knows themselves…or is trying to stay hidden. Damn. My cell chimed again. Another text from this Freddy guy. 'I know I'm not the first person who you'd like to speak to…but seriously kid…you have to come back…We can all talk about this okay?' What the hell was this guy talking about? I went through the other pockets and located nothing else. I sighed and decided to go through my cell. I was guessing it was my cell. It was on my person anyways. I had several text messages from this Mikey guy. Apparently we text a lot, or rather I sent a billion text and got one or two from him occasionally. Damn. I sounded pretty annoying. An example from me would be twenty text to him about wanting him home and repeatedly asking him when he would get home. Then one from him saying 'Leave me alone, I'm working'. I didn't understand these. My head gave a painful throb as I smacked my forehead with my cell and I let out a cry.
I knocked the backpack over and a bottle of pills rolled out. Oh, I'd missed those in my previous search. On it in sharpie was written 'Take TWO every night I'm not home'. It wasn't the same handwriting as the label on the bag though. Someone else? Giving me orders for these. What the hell was Hypnocil? I read the labels on it and realized it was for dreamless sleep. Why would I be worried about dreams? I had this vague feeling that I really needed to take some but I just wasn't sure. I'd remembered to grab it after all, so it must've been important or held some value to me. I shoved everything back into the backpack hastily as Mr. Nelson tapped on my door.
"Boy? Are you hungry?" he called out to me. My heart was racing in my chest, as if I'd been caught in the act of doing something improper. What the hell was this?
"Uh…No thanks…I'm going to uh…get some sleep…pretty uh…tired," I told him, opening the door so that he could see me. He appraised me before giving a slight nod of his head and shuffling off. I sighed, closing the door but not locking it this time. I laid down on the bed, marveling at how soft it was before my eyes shut and I was soon asleep. My dream was a strange one. I was in some form of a boiler's room, with fear in my heart. Had I been here before? I shuffled forward, feeling a little strange because I had my backpack on me…I'd fallen asleep holding the backpack strap in my hand. I don't know why. It felt like a safety blanket to me. I set the bag down as I walked, figuring a dream might tell me a bit about myself right? I tapped some of the metal railings as I paused and stopped, cringing as this horrible screeching sound filled the air. Like something metal grating against another metal thing. Instinct prompted me and I was running away from the sound. Or I thought I was. I crashed into someone else, and got the wind knocked out of me as I fell onto my ass.
"Damn kid…You know how hard it is to find your punk ass? How many fucking dreams I had to shift through just to fucking find you? Where the hell are you anyways?" the figure demanded, sounding like they were sassing me for something. I got this distinct impression of a mother yelling at her son. I got up, rubbing my back with a wince from where I'd landed. Then I focused on the figure, burnt man….claws on his right hand…fedora…Christmas sweater…Holy shit…I must've hit my head pretty hard because this seemed like a really fucked up dream. I winced again, my cell was digging into my hips so I pulled it out of my pocket. "Oh, just fucking remembered you had that?" The guy demanded sarcastic, hands on his hips as he glared at me. I found him to be a bit intimidating…but familiar. Where had I seen him before? "Look…I know you don't want to hear it from me Ghostface…but face it…Myers isn't into a serious commitment…You're just going to have to work at it…But seriously…If you're pissed…Don't take it out on Jason…Especially not about his mother…He's touchy, and I'm not OFF-WORK every night just to calm him down…." The guy gave me a look. Those names rang a familiar tone in my brain but I couldn't quite place them. What was he talking about?
"So uh…Who are you again?" I asked and his eyes widened slightly. He leaned forward, examining me as if seeing me for the first time.
"No…you're him alright…But…" he said and circled me. I felt a bit intimidated and started to tremble just a little. He noticed right away. "Stand still kid, I'm not here to hurt you…this time…" He trailed a claw across my back, and I expected to flinch away from it but was startled when a bubbly feeling went through me instead. The guy tilted his head slightly, tapping his face with his claws. "Well…You're him alright…still got the hots for me…Oh, if only I had the time to play with you…But I'm a married man and I can't do that to Jason right now…Besides, Michael would give me hell for it." I looked confused, what the hell was he talking about? And what was this weird feeling crawling around in the pit of my stomach…like I had the…the hots for a burnt man. Ew? I swallowed and backed away from the man. "Look…I'm Freddy Krueger, married to Jason Voorhees-Complicated as that is…" He rolled his eyes and gestured at me," Don't try to-" I spun around and took off running. This guy made no sense to me. Who was Freddy Krueger? Who was Jason Voorhees? And WHO THE HELL WAS MICHAEL MYERS? I tripped and slammed hard into some more metal railings. I yelped when I was burned and slid away on my butt to get away from them. I bumped into the Kruger man again. He looked pissed.
"DON'T HURT ME!" I screamed at him. I was screaming like I was some terrified little kid. The guy was reaching for me with those claws and-Mr. Nelson was shaking me awake.
"Kid, Hey. Wake up son," he shouted at me," It's just a bad dream…" I sat up, gasping in jerky breaths. Sweat trickled down my back and I realized I was crying. I couldn't stop the trembles that were going through me. "…You going to be okay?" I nodded and he left after a doubtful look. I waited and got dressed quietly, then I slipped out the window into the remainder of the night. Why did this feel like something I did often? I glanced at my cell. Three missed calls from Mikey. Who the hell were these people?
I still had no idea as to where I was headed. I just had to get away. I ended up in a bar. No, I didn't grab any beverages-I had no I.D. I sat down at an empty table. People were playing pool, smoking cigarettes, dancing, drinking and having a good time. I slumped depressed in the chair, not sure what to do.
"Hey tiger~" A woman purred, sliding into the seat opposite me. She was attractive but didn't seem to be my type…What was my type? No memories sure as hell sucked. I knew stuff but not the important stuff. I didn't know my name or my age. A hand on mine brought me back into awareness. Her hands were too soft…ugh…that vague feeling of knowing something…calloused hands from hard labor. Those were the familiar sensations I had. Was I with someone? There was a pang of sorrow in my chest, what did that mean?
"Hey," I told her, not removing her hands from mine. Underneath our table, her heel slowly slid up my leg to until her foot rested gently in my crotch. She smiled seductively at me, one drink seated in front of her. It didn't feel right. Something about this felt wrong, dirty. My cell chimed. Another text message.
'Stay put kid. We're coming to get you'. From that Freddy guy again. I stood up quickly, feeling panic clawing in my chest. The woman stood up as well, her breast almost popping out of her tight ill-fitting red dress. I didn't feel right. I felt wrong. The room was starting to spin in front of me.
"Hang on pretty boy…no reason to rush," she told me with a coy smile. She was pressing against me, my back to a wall. Had I backed up that much? She was too soft. Her over-powering perfume was smothering me, reminding me of a funeral with too many dead flowers. Ugh. I shifted, but she continued to press against me. Soft flesh against soft flesh. It was wrong. Then she was kissing me. There was that feeling again, that I'd done something like this before and it'd felt right. Not this time. Her lips were sticky with lipstick and rough against mine. I felt steadily sick as her breast peeked out from her top as she rubbed them against me. Trying to attract me…like a lure does a fish. Her nails raked against my arms painfully. I couldn't even put up much of a struggle, the room was spinning and I couldn't breath.
"Sorry to interrupt," an all too familiar voice chimed in and I was free. I fell to my knees trying to breath again, grateful. I felt violated. My mouth. Violated. Her tongue wiggling around like some fat dying worm on steroids inside of me. Her taste, like something had killed over and bathed in too many fruity concoctions to cover it up with lipstick. It was too much and my stomach did it's best to purge whatever was still in it. Didn't feel like too much, but I was throwing up right then and there.
"EW!" the woman squealed like a little girl and I heard her heels click-clacking off. Someone else kneeled beside me and I felt a comforting hand on my back.
"Come on kid…we're going home," that familiar voice whispered to me. I felt like arguing. I didn't even know where home was. I felt sick though, feverish if my shivering meant anything. "Michael, you're going to have to carry him…" The person rose and I was suddenly scooped up by someone else. I couldn't even focus on them. There were too many lights bouncing around in my vision. All I knew was that I felt safe, pressed against them like I was….strong….firm…familiar. I blacked out.
-later-
"Kid…wake up…come one kid," a voice was ordering me. I felt so tired though. I forced my eyes open and squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the windows. My attention focused on the demon from my dream. I scrambled quickly away, falling off of the bed. The guy didn't seem surprised at all, or offended. "Michael's…working…what with it being Halloween and all…"
"Who?" I interrupted confused. The guy-Freddy Krueger, I reminded myself-gave me a shrewd look.
"Ghostface…you really don't remember," Krueger stated and leaned back in his chair on two legs. It creaked ominously before he jumped up, letting it fall to all fours. He left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. I stared at the door from where I hid on the opposite side of the bed. I felt more defended here, considering the bed separated me from anyone who entered the room. I briefly considered running for it…the window was right there. I got up and went over to it, only to realize bars covered it. I was trapped. I went and sat down with my back against the wall. I had no plans…a guy with claws had me hostage. A burnt man. My heart pounded in my chest. I was screwed. I pulled my knees up to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around them, face mashed against them. I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling. There was no tell how much time passed. Hours? Days? The panic inside me was continuing to grow.
I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door as it slowly swung open. A few solid, heavy thuds of someone's feet before the door click shut. Then there was the sound of the lock clicking in place. Fear mounted in my chest, but I refused to look up. Those slow steady footfalls came closer. The floorboards creaking beneath their weight as they approached me. I could feel eyes staring at me, burning into me as someone stood beside me. Then silence. Do not look up. I didn't realize I was holding my breath. It was so quiet. Then the creak of the bed mattress as whoever stood by me got bored with that. More silence and soft breathing. The breathing evened out until I could tell someone must've fallen asleep. I peeked up from my arms and even in the dim light, considering night had fallen, I could make out the form of someone laying on the bed. They had on a mask, one of those white face ones with brown hair at the top of it. He also had on a white t-shirt, blue mechanic pants, and some type of hiking boots. I slowly stood up, noting how it seemed so easy to creep across the floor without a sound. Something that must've taken practice. I glanced at the door. Here was my chance to escape, even though I didn't know what was lurking on the other side of that door. But the man on the bed seemed to captivate me. I crept slowly over to him to look at him. He was decently built, with thick muscles and one of those 'bodies' as I'd call it….what the hell did that even mean to me?
I was especially entranced by his white mask. I leaned over him, making sure not to put any weight onto him as I propped myself up on the bed. One hand outstretched for the mask. I don't know what I hoped to accomplish by pulling off that mask, but I was determined for some odd reason. I had to lean even further over him to reach, my fingers brushed the mask briefly before a thick hand wrapped firmly around my wrist, squeezing warningly. I froze in fear, glancing down at those black eyes behind that mask. No emotion. I was caught and was going to die-He jerked and I toppled over, falling to lay on top of him. I rested lightly on his chest, trembling slightly in fear. His eyes studied me as if with some curiosity as to what prompted my actions.
"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out, starting to cry again. I didn't mean to. His hand released my wrist to gently wipe at the tears on my face. "I-I didn't mean to wake you, I just-I was just-I'm sorry, Please don't kill me….Please…" I slid off of him, still perched on the bed. He sat up, giving me an odd look before removing his mask. I wasn't watching, nervously wringing my hands in my lap as I awaited my fate. Imagine my surprise as a calloused hand gently gripped my chin and tilted my head back in his direction. The feel of soft lips touching mine. Joy burst into my chest as I greedily returned that first step towards recovery. The vague sensation of having done something like this before. Something told me that he wasn't usually the gentle one in this relationship….Relationship? Was this…Was this who I had flashbacks of? His lips slowly peeled back from mine, leaving an almost creamy texture on mine. I blinked, wondering what was going on. I watched him curiously as he pulled off his shirt slowly, all the while he watched me for any sign of reorganization. My eyes roamed across his bare torso with unsuppressed greedy glee. My fingers itched to run across the newly exposed skin, but I kept that urge at bay. "Why are you doing this? Who are you?"
"I'm Michael Myers," he told me softly, pulling me towards him. "I'm technically your…lover…" He wrapped his arms around me. I liked how I fit snuggly into him, as if we were meant to be. My small frame against his thick one. A small shiver went through me as my cheek brushed across his chest where my head rested. His lips gently brushed my ear to slid slowly down my throat. My breathing hitched as my heart went into overdrive. Who was this man who had me so captivated? A small squeak escaped my mouth as his cold hands slid under my own shirt. He paused and I could hear the amusement in his voice," Did you just squeak?" He asked in his low tone.
"er…yeah?" I questioned. I felt his warm breath fan my cheek as he chuckled quietly.
"What other interesting sounds do you think you can make?" he asked me quietly. I was hesitant but pulled away from him to pull off my own shirt. Something about that soft crooked smile on his face had me wanting to hear what sounds he could make me produce, and something seemed to tell me that he could produce a lot. I was akward to say the least, but glad that I'd allowed this to happen. I laid snuggled in his arms, naked under the sheets after what I'd call a successful night in bed with a lover. Turns out I can make a LOT of different noises under the hands of Michael Myers….Michael…A burst of pain in my head had me grabbing at my forehead.
"Ow…ow…ow…" I groaned and Michael tensed beside me, hands still wrapped protectively around me. Suddenly it all came back to me. Everything that I was and would ever be. I looked at Michael…no, my Mikey. "…Mikey…"
"Yeah?" he asked a bit confused.
"My Mikey," I said snuggling against him again, arms wrapping around him as I laid my head against his bare torso once again. "So…You think we can get married like Jason and Freddy…I think it's working out for them quite well…I mean, can't we step up our relationship just a bit?" Myers chuckled quietly and kissed my forehead.
"It's good to have you back," he told me and sighed, leaning back against the pillows. I felt a little bad at first, considering he'd just come back from a night of hard work…but hey…I remembered I was Ghostface. Isn't that worth something?